Chapter two
Donna and Mo's plans were to meet for lunch, and then Donna would drive Mo to work. During Business Accounting 301, Donna doodled in the margin of her notebook and thought about her new car. How fast would it go? Did she look good in it? After class, she found Mo leaning against the Mustang like James Dean with boobs, winking at passing guys.
A blond one asked, “Is that your car?”
Mo casually shrugged.
“It's nice,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied. Donna shook her head, unlocked the door.
“Let's go, Mustang Sally.” She lowered the top despite Mo's protests that it would wreck her hair then drove to their favorite lunch spot, Barker's Burgers. A blue Toyota followed them into the parking lot.
“Hey Mo, did you notice a blue car parked down the street when we were still at your house?”
“I dunno,” Mo had the visor lowered and was applying generous amounts of lipstick that perfectly matched the Mustang's paint color.
“The reason I ask is because there's a car behind us that I swear is the same car I saw by your house. And I don't know for sure, but it could even be the same one that followed us yesterday after you flipped off the driver.” With lipstick still in hand, Mo whirled around to look behind her. The waxy mass of lip color barely missed smearing the Mustang's upholstery.
“Where's the blue car?”
Donna plucked the lipstick tube from her hand. “Right there,” she pointed. The Toyota was parked along a curb, its male occupant on the phone, not moving to exit. “I'm almost positive it's the same car that was by your house. But you know, it's a pretty common car and -”
Mo's mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. “It can't be.”
“What can't be?” Donna found the lipstick's lid and replaced it. She handed the tube to Mo, who absently shoved it in her oversized black bag with the silver peace sign on it.
“Come on,” Mo whispered. “Let's get inside.” She bolted from the car and before Donna could ask what the rush was about, Mo was at the restaurant's entrance, rolling her eyes and motioning Donna to hurry up.
“Just let me put the top up,” Donna hollered. Mo impatiently scrunched her hair and tapped her toes while Donna locked up the car.
Barker's Burgers smelled like grease and buzzed with lunch crowd chatter, everybody hurrying to get their food so they could hurry back to school or work. Mo found the line with the cutest cashier. She hurried to stand in it and then coyly scanned the room.
“Damn it, Mo. What's going on?”
“Shhhh!” Mo snapped. “I'll tell you when we sit down.”
Donna crossed her arms. “Why can't you tell me now?”
“I don't want to make a scene.”
Donna looked her up and down. So did the high school girl wearing a plaid mini skirt in the line next to them.
“If blending in is your objective,” Donna whispered, “then that hair color isn't going to cut it.”
Mo shrugged. “If it's good enough for your sexy car, then it's good enough for my sexy head.” Her gaze wandered toward the entrance door. Donna frowned and remained in annoyed silence until Mo paid for both meals and batted her eyelashes at the counter guy, who raised a pierced eyebrow back and smiled.
“I'd like my burger very well done,” Donna said. The pierced eyebrow guy shrugged, walked away and came back a few minutes later with a bag and two drinks.
“Thanks, darling.” Mo winked at him.
Darling winked back. “You’re welcome.”
Mo grabbed the bag and dashed to the most secluded corner of Barker's Burgers. Donna followed.
“He didn't come in yet, did he?” Mo asked.
“Who?”
“The guy from the blue car, dummy.” Mo's voice dropped, which was unusual for Mo.
Donna clenched her teeth. “Are you going to tell me what's going on?”
Mo rolled her eyes. “Geez you're impatient.” She stuffed her face full of fries and chomped them like a cow. “I was helping with this story at work. It's about...” she trailed off.
“What's the story about?”
“I'm not supposed to say,” she said.
Donna rubbed her temples. “If it has anything to do with somebody in a blue Toyota following around college girls in red Mustangs, you had better say.”
Mo slurped from her soda straw and searched the room for eavesdroppers. High school students huddled in clumps, a frazzled-looking mom with four crying kids sighed in desperation. Nobody appeared to care a thing about Donna and Mo. “People have gone missing.”
“People?”
Mo poured ketchup on her fries. “Girls.”
“Little girls?”
“No, our age.” She put down the ketchup bottle, changed her mind, picked it back up and poured more on her fries.
Donna unconsciously put a finger to her mouth and started biting on the thumb nail. “Missing from where? And since when? How come nothing's been on the news about it?”
“That's exactly it,” Mo belched just when a couple of cute guys from the college's football team passed by. Mo winked at them. They turned away and laughed. Mo rolled her eyes. “Nobody's heard about the missing girls, because nobody's admitting anything is even happening. It's really weird, Donna. Three girls have gone missing in the past week, from this very town, and not one word of the story has been mentioned in the paper or on the news.”
“Maybe because there is no story,” Donna said slowly. “Maybe they're part of a group that just took off.”
Mo's head shook vigorously. “It's not like that.”
“You have a way of seeing things that aren't there, Mo. Maybe -” Mo gasped and her eyes widened as she stared past Donna towards the door. “Oh no, there he is.” Mo sat facing the door, but Donna's back was to it, so she whirled around. A tall, dark-haired man wearing a business suit and nervous expression walked through Barker Burger's entrance and stood in line behind a group of chattering high school cheerleaders.
“He does look a little out of place,” Donna admitted. His hollow gaze met hers, then Mo's. His jaw clenched. He turned and stormed back out the way he'd just come. Mo and Donna exchanged wide-eyed glances.
“Let's go,” Mo stood and pulled Donna up too, spilling almost half her fries on the floor.
“Where are we going?” Donna scooped up what remained of her lunch, shuffled it in the bag, mouthed “Sorry” to the girl in the brown and orange Barker's Burger hat whose job appeared to be emptying trash cans and giving cold stares to sloppy customers.
“We're going to follow him,” Mo’s said in an urgent tone.
“Are you crazy? We are most certainly not going to follow him. We're going to call the cops.”
“Cops?” Mo snorted. “You of all people should know the cops are useless. Come on.” Mo tugged Donna's arm. She pulled back.
“Me of all people?”
“I’m sorry,” Mo said in a remorseful tone. “What I mean is the stupid cops never even caught the driver of the car that hit your little brother. Our city cops are useless.”
“That’s true enough,” Donna replied quietly. “But I refuse to follow a suspicious man, and since I'm driving, I have the final say.” Mo opened her mouth to protest. “But,” Donna added, “We can get his license plate number for the police, such as they are.”
“Fine, whatever then. Let's go.” Mo dragged Donna through Barker's Burgers. By the time they got outside, the blue Toyota was gone. “Damn!” Mo stomped her foot. “We could've gotten him.”
“Or, he could've gotten us.”
Mo sneered, making her nose stud twinkle in the sun. “Unlock this hunk of metal and let's go.” Donna unlocked her side and Mo tried to open the passenger door. It didn't budge. “Didn't you unlock it?”
“It's an old car. You have to unlock it by hand.”
“Well, what a dumb idea.” Mo put her hands on her hips and huffed.
Donna reached over a
nd unlocked the passenger door. Mo started chattering before her butt even hit the seat. “One of the missing girls worked in my mom's old real estate office. Madison Miller. I think you saw her that time we went in to drop off Mom's lunch. She was the receptionist. Is...the receptionist.”
“The tall blonde?”
“Uh-huh. She's been missing since last Friday. Two others are missing, too. All three of them are about 5'7” and blonde.” Mo surveyed Donna. “It appears to be the kidnapper’s type.” She reached for her burger.
“Not in my car,” Donna pointed to the bag.
“Kill joy.”
“Stop calling me that. Anyway, if what you're saying is true about missing girls,” Donna held up a hand in response to Mo's disapproving glare, “and I'm sure it is, then why aren't the police doing anything about it?”
Mo's face darkened - a cloud over the sun. “The cops aren't taking the disappearances seriously. And my boss isn't letting anybody write about it. In fact, his exact words were, 'Let's not panic the public, it's not ethical journalism.'” Mo clenched her teeth. “He said that right after the mayor left his office on the day the first girl went missing. Our new mayor is a piece of work and I'd not be one bit surprised to find out he has something to do with this.”
“Mayor St. James?” Donna scoffed.
“Don't be fooled by people with political inclinations,” Mo warned. “There's something not right about that guy, and by not right, I don't just mean his politics. Did you know he didn't even come to town until right before the mayoral race, and then he showed up out of nowhere and got elected?” Mo's eyes narrowed. “With very little campaigning and zero fund-raising, I might add. This is America, damn it, and that kind of thing just can't happen here.” Mo goaded Donna to hurry through a yellow light and then continued. “The mysterious Michael St. James has been our mayor for exactly a month, and now there are missing girls and a police force that refuses to do anything about it. Our staff at the newspaper was ready to break with the story one minute, and then the next, Mayor St. James succeeded in shutting it down.” Mo's fiery head shook. “I don't trust that guy.”
“I fit the profile of those missing girls.”
Mo nodded emphatically. “That's why I'm telling you, even though my boss threatened termination if any of us said anything to anybody.”
“Termination?” A chill went down Donna's spine.
“See, that's what I mean. This whole thing is just weird.” Mo waved at an older woman with a yellow sweater and black hair, who pushed a shopping cart full of cans. She waved back. “One of my regulars,” Mo explained. Mo volunteered one day a week at the local soup kitchen.
“Do you have hard evidence that they were actually kidnapped?”
Mo looked at Donna as if she had just asked for hard evidence of gravity. “Three missing girls in a week. What more evidence do you need?”
“Okay,” Donna felt cold even though it was warm outside. “Why do you think they've been taken? Where were they taken from? What were they wearing? What were they doing when they went missing?” If there was a pattern, maybe she could do something to not be part of it.
“I have no idea. The cops aren't releasing information. The only way we know about it is because every time there's a 911 call our lead reporter, Liz, gets sent out.”
“She's not tall and blonde, is she?”
Mo shook her head. “Well, she's blonde, but it's not natural. The kidnapper seems to prefer natural blondes.”
“That's...nice to know.” Donna parked the Mustang outside The Waterhole's front entrance. “I wonder how I'd look as a brunette.”
Mo's nose scrunched. “Like somebody took a shit on your head.” Then she chuckled and got out. “Thanks for the ride.” She pointed to Donna's hands. “By the way, what happened to you?” Donna looked down. A solid bruise had formed around each of her wrists.
“I don't know,” she frowned, vaguely recalling a dream from last night...
Can a person actually pull injuries out of a nightmare and onto their flesh?
She was about to ask Mo, but Mo slammed the Mustang’s door and bounded to The Waterhole's door, chomping the rest of her lunch.
“Remember,” she hollered back. “Tonight, The Dark Side. Pick me up at eight.”
Donna nodded ruefully. She would just as soon stay home and eat popcorn in front of the TV, like a normal person. The Dark Side was full of strange people and all the strangeness they dragged to the club with them. Donna hated it. But Mo craved that kind of excitement like a mouse craves cheese on a trap.
Chapter three